


Spin the Bottle

by idelthoughts



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Crack, Drinking Games, Surprise Kissing, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 13:45:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3070370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idelthoughts/pseuds/idelthoughts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are times in your life when you can remember every single second of an event with perfect clarity.  Kissing Henry Morgan is one of those times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spin the Bottle

**Author's Note:**

> Day two of Henry Morgan's Seven Drunken Nights fanfic challenge! Be sure to check out [the whole collection](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Henry_Morgans_Seven_Drunken_Nights) to read all the other great stories!
> 
> This story has been [podficced](http://truthisademurelady.tumblr.com/post/107872422280/my-husband-read-my-henry-morgans-seven-drunken) (sort of).
> 
> Here is a [Chinese translation](http://oneandalone.lofter.com/post/3dec0e_58ebd77) by Laetitia.

The night started out with a brutal game of Never Have I Ever, and it took a while before they all realized that Henry drank after every question.  They looked at him with increasing curiosity as he shrugged and smiled, blandly taking another sip each time.

Eventually the game turned into a pointed challenge to find something Henry Morgan hadn’t done.  All they accomplished was a drunk Henry—which in itself was pretty entertaining.  Drunk or not, Henry looked very pleased with himself.  He narrowed his eyes and challenged each question asker with a stare-down, entirely too smug.

Lucas was sure Henry had to be lying about at least half of it.  There was no way a person could fit that much debauchery into thirty-five years of life.  

Hanson slapped an empty bottle down on the table, scoffing.

“Fine, you want to play drinking games, let’s up the ante.”

“What is this?”  Henry peered at the tipped over bottle.

 “You never played Spin the Bottle before?  You spin it, and whoever it points at, that’s who you’ve gotta kiss.”

Henry raised an eyebrow and glanced at Jo, who shrugged and hid a smile behind her glass.  

“That seems an arbitrary way to select your companion for the evening.”

“Ain’t nobody said nothing about it leading to evening companionship, Doc!  Just a kiss!”  Hanson snorted.

“Alright.”  Henry put his glass down on the table and gave the bottle a good twirl.  “I accept your challenge.”

“Henry, Henry, I’m just kidding,”  Hanson said with a laugh as the bottle spun dizzily around.  “We’re not twelve, here.”

But the bottle was already on its inexorable trajectory, and Lucas stared as the bottle slowed and stopped, pointing straight at him.  He looked up at Henry, who was giving him a considering look.  

No way.  

Henry’s demeanour turned to one of determination, and he stood up from the table.  He was a bit wobbly, but definitely still looking at Lucas with the kind of look he got when he was on a mission.

Hanson looked a bit worried.  

“Hey, I was kidding—“

“Shut up, Hanson,” Jo said, pointing a finger at him while still staring at Henry.  She folded her arms and leaned on the table with rapt attention.  “I need to see this.”

Henry came around the table.  Lucas watched his progress with an unreal sense of dread, the kind you get when you can hear creepy circus music but have no idea where it’s coming from.  Henry looked down at Lucas and offered him his hand.

“Lucas, before we begin, I wish to be sure that this will have no impact on our professional relationship.”

Lucas made a noise that was supposed to be a laugh, but sounded a bit more like a high-pitched squeal.  He took Henry’s hand, because it was just hanging there in the air in front of his nose, and he didn’t quite know what else to do.

“Yeah—I mean no, ‘course not.”

“Excellent.”  

Henry shook Lucas’ hand firmly, then released it and rubbed his hands together.

There were times in a person’s life where they could remember every single detail of something that happened to them with perfect clarity, like every single second was an entire full experience on its own.  Once, when Lucas was in gym class in the fifth grade, he’d swung a baseball bat and accidentally let go of it, and it had sailed away from him and slammed the gym teacher so hard in the balls that the man had turned white, fallen down, and had to take a week off work.  Lucas could remember every minute detail of that event; the slide of the wood through his fingers, the way the man’s eyes had bugged out and then rolled back in his head leaving just whites, and Jeremy Gould, the class smart-ass, whispering “ _you are so dead_ ” right behind him.

It was like that now with Henry’s approach—it was in slow motion, like a docking port perspective of the space shuttle slowly aligning with the international space station, until Henry’s face filled Lucas’ entire field of vision and there it was.  He was kissing Henry.

Okay, kissed.  Game rules satisfied.  Done.

But Henry wasn’t done.  

Apparently Henry had a method to these things. Of course he did, Henry had a method for everything he did.   He’d probably worked out the ideal way to kiss someone by the time he was thirteen and had been honing his craft ever since.

He must have, because it was a pretty good kiss.  Okay, it was better than good.  No, no—it really was very, very good.

At this point Lucas was vaguely aware that he’d closed his eyes and was flopping in his chair like a noodle while Henry kissed him—holy smokes, that was _tongue_ —and he wasn’t helping much on his side of things.  He knew he should be doing something, but this was the most action he’d seen in a year, and possibly the best kiss he’d ever had, and he was too busy thinking that he really needed to go home and rethink his life choices if this was what kissing could be like.  

Just when he worked up the mental coordination to participate in the event, it was over.  By the time Lucas managed to open his eyes,  Henry was already walking back around the table to retrieve his drink, a definite swagger in his step.  

Lucas straightened in his chair and tried to look cool, because it was totally normal to have your boss french kiss you and then have him sip his cognac like it was no big deal.  Right?

Hanson was staring at Lucas with his mouth agape, and Jo was staring at Henry with _her_ mouth agape, and Lucas really wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do at this point, but his mouth was agape too and it would probably be best if something started coming out of it.

“So,” he said, and his voice cracked like he was going through puberty again.  “Uh—my turn?”

“No,” Jo and Hanson said at the same time, both reaching out to cover the bottle with their hands.

Henry grinned into his cognac glass, and Lucas no longer had any doubt about Henry’s honesty in that game of Never Have I Ever.

 


End file.
